


Revolution Cross

by Tasogare Nagisa (phoenixjustice)



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/Tasogare%20Nagisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L/Mello, set pre-Kira investigation. </p><p>"So I have been wondering why you choose to wear that cross around your neck."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revolution Cross

He always wondered why Mello wore that crucifix around his neck. He wasn't particularly religious--leastways L could never remember a time that he and Mello discussed religious matters; instead Mello seemed more like him (though the thought discomfited him later on because of...certain reasons) in that they were both calculating, focusing intently on the scientfic aspects of things; it was perhaps the comforting thing to each of them where religion would be comforting to another person.

Another comforting thing...

He passes by Mello's room, which the young teen had made sure was far away from the others (he liked his privacy, though in the daytime he could be quite social--far different than the world's greatest detective in that aspect) and pauses, a finger placed to his mouth thoughtfully. It was not that late in the day, [dinner](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5521554/1/Revolution-Cross) hadn't even happened yet, but he hadn't seen the young man around.

Usually, when L had gotten up for the day (or deigned to show himself, as he didn't sleep very much, even here--it was just a habit he was used to) Mello was the first to find him and stuck around him as much of the day as possible; he was also the first to have discovered that 'Ryuuzaki' was in fact L; a fact that only a few people in the house knew. The fact that Mello had yet to be seen was intriguing to him.

Perhaps he was getting into mischief (as he so often did) or getting into mischief with his best friend Matt (as he so often did.) After debating a silent battle with himself, trying to figure out if he should actually try to see if Mello was in his room (he wasn't afraid to walk in unannounced--he could [care](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5521554/1/Revolution-Cross) less about that--but he would rather be sure, or at least a factor of 93 percent, that Mello was in there; he hated to be wrong. He already knew that he was childish in that regard, but he--generally--accepted it) or to try in another place that he was more likely to be in.

He makes the decision to head to Matt's room and try and see if Mello was there; when Mello wasn't hanging around him or spending time alone, he was most usually with his friend. It had been a few weeks [now](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5521554/1/Revolution-Cross), since he had first arrived at Wammy's House, and it had been a surprisingly nice change compared to the flurry of cases he had been facing as of late.

Not that he had completely stopped looking over a few cases during his stay at the House; it wasn't in him to stop completely, but he was doing less of his normal (for him) workload. Perhaps he should visit Near's room before heading to Matt's--Near's was closer and if anyone would know where Mello was, it was Near. Although he didn't look like he paid much attention to the people around him (as he played with toys and puzzles alone nearlu all the time by himself) he had a very good eye with detail and L had seen Near watching Mello (though many times Mello was unaware) quite intently.

Just as L makes his final decision and starts to walk away, he hears a muffled groaning sound, making him pause in mid-step. The groaning only intensifies as the seconds pass, though L could tell that the person was doing their damndest to keep from being heard.

Ah.

It seemed as though he need not look for Mello at all--it was a natural, hormonal response that all teenagers went through. He shuffles off, pondering what kind of cake he wanted for lunch. Perhaps Watari had gotten the triple-layer cherry cheesecake that he had asked for the day before...he would have to see.

As he gets quite far away, a final moan comes from Mello's room and the world's greatest detective does not hear the teen's exclamation of his name on his lips.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

There was a chapel in the grounds of the House, in the back, past the garden, though none that he could see that went there, went to worship anyway. It seemed to be a popular place to study, or, as in the case of a girl named Linda, to paint, or to do other activities.

Perhaps it was the way the children were brought up--hearing more of cold, hard logic than of spiritualism and belief. Perhaps some hid their own religious leanings, but chose to worship in private, for fear of persecution.

He himself was an atheist, or at least would be labeled as such, but atheism lied by it's own name; to have no belief was a belief in and of itself, for if you believed in nothing, you still _believed._ And he _did_ believe in things--in fact and logic, in thought, and in justice. So to say he was an athiest would be a hypocritical statement.

L finds a nice spot in the back of the chapel to catch up on some Tolstoy, near some of the beautifully painted stained glass windows, with a picture of the Virgin Mary (holding the baby named Jesus) on one side, a picture of Isis and Osiris (with Osiris holding up an upsidedown Anhk; Anhk's were the symbol for life, so Osiris holding it upsidedown signified death, as he was the god of the Underworld) on the other, with sunlight pouring in through the panes, creating a fantastical array of colors and shapes on the chapel floor, though he only notices this for but a moment as he takes a seat, legs pulled up on one of the many pews.

On the pew in front of him, he notices that someone had etched a note into the back--which coinsided with his arrival at Wammy's House. He proceeds to finish up his book (which he had lost track of how many times he had read it) and almost doesn't notice the approaching footsteps his way. He glances up as a shadow passes over the pages of his book and sees Mello standing there almost bashfully (which was far from feelings Mello usually exuded.)

"Hey," Mello sayd quickly. "I didn't expect you to come all the way out here--you never seemed like the religious type."

L places his book face down and glances quickly at Mello's shirt, underneath which was a silver crucifix, and back up to Mello's face.

"Neither do you," L replied back. "So I have been wondering why you choose to wear that cross around your neck." Mello looked surprised, but the expression quickly leaves his face as he attempts to mask his emotions--something which he could not do very well, and something which L could see through even if he could.

"Maybe I'll tell you why...later," Mello adds quickly, looking as though he was trying to keep from blurting something out. "That is...if you'll come to my room later and talk to me." Which was a rather simple request, as they had done that many times, though never in Mello's room.

"That should be alright..." L pondered aloud. "I have to go over a few key details in one of the cases I am investigating but I should be able to later tonight."

Mello's face lights up and he smiles. Something felt strange all of a sudden with L's stomach, some kind of fluttering, or as if frogs were doing flips in his stomach (though he would much rather have cake in his stomach.) It was unusual and probably needed to be investigated further. Maybe talking with Mello later would yield some clues--two minds tended to think better than one; even if one of them belonged to the world's greatest detective.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Reading up on his cases took longer than he first estimated, and it was well after twelve when he finished, though he had coffee and sweets during that period, of course. As he shuffles the papers into a somewhat manageable pile, he wonders if he should call on the young teen. After all, no one else probably had the same hours he did; the times when stress was too much and he couldn't sleep, even if he had wanted to.

He decides to try and see anyway--teenagers were known for staying up past their designated sleep schedule, after all. He takes care to walk as quietly as possible so as not to wake the other sleeping children and staff in the House. He goes through one of the hallways and sees a sleepy Matt, who rubs at his eyes, leaving one of the bathrooms.

Near did not come out of his room as L goes by, but he notices that the boy's light was still on. He reaches Mello's door and sees that it's completely dark, but he still takes a chance and knocks on the teenager's door.

No answer.

He decides against knocking again, and instead grabs the door handle and, finding it unlocked, opens up the door, walking inside. "Mello?" he says quietly in the darkness. "Are you awake?" Still no forthcoming answer. His eyes adjust to the dark and he is able to make out the shape of the bed and the like. Mello's form was curled on his bed, his breathing deep and even. Asleep then.

Still his feet continue to move forward and he finds himself standing in front of Mello. He kneels down, looking at the sleeping boy, remembering quiet suddenly and sharply, the strange emotion he had felt in the chapel earlier. He glances up and notices a wooden cross nailed to the left side of the wall, near the window.

"Think you can explain things to me?" L said sardonically, gazing at the cross. "I thought that religion was supposed to give you answers, not just sit there and do nothing." He shakes his head. It didn't matter. He didn't need answers from a wooden object or any possible deity behind it, rather he needed, and wanted, answers from a flesh and blood person--he looks back down at Mello; _this_ person in particular.

That strange feeling had shown up when Mello did earlier in that chapel, so it wasn't a stretch to think that Mello might, no _should_ , have the answers. He leans forward, gazing at the teen's sleeping face, peaceful as it so rarely was.

"I want you to tell me, Mello..." he whispers, a hand moving of its own volition forward, and coming to rest somewhere near his face, hovering close but not quite touching. L becomes greatly startled when Mello's eyes suddenly pop open and he grabs L's hand.

Even in the darkness, L could feel the intensity burning brightly in the younger man. Mello starts to pull him closer and he makes no move to stop, curious to see what else might occur. Mello's head lifts off his pillow and moves closer to L's own; the teen's lips part and L has an epiphany just before Mello's lips touch his own. A jolt races through his lithe body.

Ah, so this...this reason then.

Before he could stop himself, he grabs Mello's face and deepens the kiss, hearing Mello's startled moan. He knew kissing, understood the mechanics, but it was an entirely different thing to actually be _doing_ it. He vaguely wondered if it would feel this way if he placed his lips on someone else. And then, as Mello's arms wrap around his neck, those thoughts all but fade from his mind. His eyes close and he lets himself enjoy the feeling of Mello's lips against his.

Both of them inexperienced and clumsy, but yet it didn't feel awkward as he thought kissing might feel, it rather felt _good_. His lips slide over the younger's one last time and he hears Mello's displeasure as he disentangles them and pulls back slightly.

"L?" Mello's surprisingly timid voice asks. "...Are you--are you mad at me?"

L ponders this, a finger to his lip. "Why would I be mad?"

Mello shifts in his bed, his voice very quiet. "You don't think it was wrong, do you?"

Wrong?

"And not just that...I know I probably wasn't any good at it either. But I--I've wanted it for a long time," Mello confessed softly.

Mello thought he would see it as something wrong? And couldn't the teen see that he was just as new at it as well? ...w _as_ it wrong? Well yes, Mello _was_ younger; so that was an issue? But Mello was extremely bright and intelligent. And in this area, of kissing, they were equals. ...did it _have_ to be wrong? Who dictated that sort of mindset anyhow? Who had the right to make all the rules for people? Some might say him, the world's greatest detective, but if that was what it entailed, then he didn't want it. He set his own morality.

"Mello. You...it's only wrong to me if it's wrong to you. And I was more clumsy than I wished to be." confessed L.

Mello pulls on his shirt, trying to get him onto the bed and L obliged. He supposed speaking on the bed would be more comfortable...

He was not used to this sort of intimacy, so he does what comes natural, and wraps his arms around the younger boy, pulling him closer. Mello lets out a little sound at that. Was that alright? Did it please or displease him?

"Will you stay?" Mello asks, his arms reflexably tightening around L.

So Mello _was_ pleased. He would have to file away the events that had just taken place, later, but for now...

"Yes." His head lays against the pillow and his gaze stays on Mello until the teen's eyes droop close and he falls asleep. Yes...this had been an unexpected event that he had not forseen. A small smile plays against his lips. But that was just fine with him; he had been looking for a new challenge, and perhaps he could continue to discover what all these things meant.

Finally a true challenge!

* * *

 


End file.
